“In danger of making a fool of himself. Now, I’ll say nothing more. Will you come?”
“It will look very strange.”
“Very.”
“In fact—most unusual.”
“Most.”
“Won’t there be a—a—scandal, if——”
“Sure to be. Will you come?”
“You must have a reason,” she said. “I will come.”
We started that evening, nine hours after My Lord, going separately to the station, and meeting on the boat. All through the journey she scarcely spoke a word. When we were nearing Paris, she asked: